Reentering Dusk
by alyssacullenforever27
Summary: 7 years after BD. Renesmee and Jacob are together and happily in love. But when something happens with the pack and Jacob's inner monster is having problems staying inside, can Renesmee help him through it? Better summary inside. Nessie/Jacob fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**

It's been seven years since Breaking Dawn. Renesmee and Jacob are happy together and extremely in love. But when a troubling situation comes upon the pack, Quileute werewolves all develop a problem of keeping their inner werewolf under control. And thos troubling situation doesn't become any better when a new enemy arrives in Forks, perhaps resulting in war. Nessie/Jake fanfiction.

So what do you think? I'm working on the first chapter at the moment and I really need opinions.

REVIEW. ;  
should I write this story or not?

(:

**THERE'S CYBER COOKIES IF YOU GIVE ME YOUR OPINION. (:**

Come on, you know you're tempted.

-Midnight Ambivalence.


	2. Recurring Nightmares

**A.N.// so i finally got around to writing this story. i've been busy. sorry.**

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The combination of the bright sun and Jacob's warm aroma made me nearly break into a sweat, although I did not know if that were possible. As I could recall, I had never sweat before. But that was most likely normal for me, although nothing about me was truly normal. The majority of my short life's experiences have consisted much of the abnormal. So who am I to assume that I couldn't have sweat beads? More extraordinary things have happened.

I felt Jacob's lips on the peek of my neck, breaking me away from my thoughts. I giggled lightly, placing a hand on his cheek, stretching my arm high. His hands wrapped tighter around my waist. "I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful." Jake murmured, against my skin, tickling me lightly. Again, I let out a short giggle.

"The sunset is very beautiful," I agreed, with a short nod, directing my gaze more in that direction, rather than the pleasant waves of the sea. Jacob was always saying that I was too preoccupied with searching for details and that I should make the big picture more visible. This, metaphorically applied to his assumptions.

I heard Jacob's wonderful laughter, bringing me back into reality, once more. "No, Ness." he muttered, planting another kiss on my neck. "I meant you, baby."

I turned around, to see the glimmer of his gorgeous brown eyes. The way his tanned skin glimmered in the short distanced sunlight that would only remain a few mere minutes was beautiful. Everything about this man consisted of pure beauty.

I was suddenly overwhelmed with the intense urge to kiss his lips. The feeling was so overpowering that I did all that I could to to not so much as attack him, my lips crushing into his. But before I could develop even a thought as to how I would make my move, Jake inched forward, his lips seeking mine. Gratefully and eagerly, I leaned forward, closing my eyes and pressing my lips into his. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me into his highly temperatured body. His lips began gentle against mine, though the pull of his grip was getting tighter. My bare toes curled into the soft sand, as I perked up on the tip of them, seeking to be closer to Jake's incredible height. As I began to relax into the kiss, mold mine more into his lips, Jacob pulled away, to take a breath, lust filling his large brown eyes.

"Nessie," he breathed, bringing a warm hand to my pale cheek. I looked into his eyes, my face merely inches away from his own. I felt for a minute that there was something he was aching to say, perhaps it was the his expression that gave it away. It was hard to explain. But something about the nerves that had suddenly crept onto his face, the way his eyes appeared somewhat tortured, as if struggling to bring a new topic into the conversation. "We're missing the sunset." He whispered, pressing his forehead against mine with a short chuckle, before pulling away, and scooping me up into his lap, with a peck on my cheek and a childish grin.

I couldn't help to hide the dissapointment in my features. My slum shoulders, frowning expression, discouraged look in my eyes. It all bled through. But I suppose Jacob pretended not to notice, although I'm well aware that he did. Perphaps it was because of the fact that I have been known for more than once to chew out anyone who asked the dreaded question "What's wrong?" I had had a problem with showing various emotions for as long as I could remember. I was told I had recieved that particular trait from my mother.

"Jacob," I began, sighing lightly, and gazing at the sun that was cascading lower and lower from the sky. The mix of purples, reds and faded orange was completely gorgeous. Without a doubt, beautiful. I wondered silently how we took it all for granted. The beauty of everyday life, I mean. No one would particuarly notice it's pressence so much or rather, appreciate it, unless somehow, one day, it dissapeared.

I suppose the old saying is correct. You never truly know what you have until its gone.

Jacob brushed a stray hair from my forehead, leaning forward with what appeared to be a look of concern displayed on his face. "Renesmee?" He said, peering into my eyes. I found it strange that he only seemed to use my full given name in the state of a serious situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I apologized, directing my gaze at Jake. "I must have gotten distracted." I admitted, smiling sheepishly.

But Jacob just laughed, shaking his head. "Ah, Nessie. What does it take to _ever_ get you to focus?!" He joked, laughing and planting a kiss atop my hair.

I sighed contently, resting my head against his chest, and planting a kiss on his hand that rest in mine. "There's something I have to tell you." I admitted, in a whisper voice. I decided that rather than him admitting what it was he wished to tell me, I would share what I had been longing to tell him for the extremely long seven years of my life.

He shifted his pelvis back and forth, as if to make a comforting swaying notion. "You can tell me anything, baby." He whispered, strumming his warm fingers against the soft skin of my arm. Jacob ran his hand down the top of my arm, rubbing his fingers against my soft skin.

I took a deep breath, going over what I knew, which always seemed to help in nerve-racking situations, much like this one, presented to me at the time being. It seemed that every notion he made towards me was lovingly. Jacob constantly called me _Baby_, intertwining his fingers with my own. It seemed, at the very least, to me, that his hands were on my body at any given moment. In fact, the idea of his pleasantly warm touch not overwhelming me was abnormal. So, with the idea set straight in my mind that he would return the favor, if I were to only say it, I mentally convinced myself to take the plunge. To say those three little words that I meant every moment and every day of my short life.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice trembling.

And then, in that second, the comforting feeble of his soft fingers against my arm, turned into sharp, piercing buring sensation. Claws formed where Jacob's hands formally were and a his sharp fingers dug into my skin, dragging down my porcelain arm, tearing the skin, my blood flowing down to the sand of the beach. I screamed, the high picth wail breaking the peaceful air of La Push's beach. Subconciously, I began to fight off the beast that my Jacob was becoming, his skin being replaced with a ball of fir. I was pushed off of his lap, rather violently, falling into a pull of my blood. He took a shred of my arm with his claw, causing me to howl out in pain. The last thing I saw was an aggresive-looking pair of eyes. Black, demeaning eyes. Those eyes did not belong to my Jacob.

I awoke, with a cold sweat. My throat aching from the previous wail I had let out. "Apparently, I _can_ sweat," I murmured, examining my body parts, especially my right arm, making positive that each limb was still intact. I re-directed my gaze, towards the window. It was the middle of the night, I judged by the lighting peeking in from outside my window. And then I saw a silhouette, peering at me from the corner of my room. It took me half a scream, and a startled jump to realize it was my father.

He stepped out of the shadows, revealing a pair of pale white arms crossed and a concerned expression on his face. "Another nightmare." He said, not using the question's tone of voice. He sat down on the end of my bed, placing a reassuring hand on my feet. "I heard you screaming and yelling in your sleep, Renesmee." He explained, his brow furrowing as he struggled to read my expression. I wondered why he bothered to when he could simply read my mind, although I was grateful for the attempt at privacy, reguarding that I had never had any of that.

"You and Jacob are together now." He sighed out, averting his gaze at the very awkwardness of the conversation. "And it's safe to say that you at least look the part of a teenager now," He said, flashing a sad smile, most likely at the thought of his only daughter growing up, blossoming into an adult. It must be hard when the only child you can ever have grow abnormally fast, a bit more than two times as quickly as human children. My dad met my glance. "I don't presume this is the time you dream about him killing you," his tone was stern.

I shook my head, with a sigh, feeling a tinge of betrayal. "What gives you the right to invade my dreams?!" I nearly shouted, a blush playing onto my face at whatever else could have happened in previous dreams I don't remember, in which I was willing to bet money on, my father did.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't change the subject, Renesmee." I could tell by his tone that he was struggling to keep it calm. "You've been having this nightmare for nearly a week now. I'm concerned. Jacob and you.." I found by his expression he assumed the conversation to be delicate, for God knows what reason. I'm certainly not the mind reader here. "He hasn't hurt you, has he?" Dad asked, suddenly, catching me off guard.

I presumed if anything violent was occuring between Jake and I, which it wasn't, my father would be the first to know, and not by my own choice. But I suppose things have been hidden from him a few times before.

My jaw dropped, outrage overwhelming me. "Of course not!" I didn't break eye contact, for I was well aware that that's the type of things parents look for when taking part in a lie detecting test. But when I looked into my Dad's eyes, seeing the pure concern for me, his daughter, I softened my expression, sudden knowlegde that this all must be hard on him. I flashed him a sympathetic look. "Dad, Jacob and I are great, better than ever, actually. I don't know why I'm having these nightmares."

He flashed a bit of a smile, although it didn't touch his eyes. My father placed a hand on my knee, glancing at me carefully. "Alright, Nessie." I let out a sigh of relief, the casual nickname giving me ease. "But you would tell me if something _was_ going on, right?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course, Dad." I smiled, reassuringly, wondering myself, if that were true. But looking around, I realized there was usually much more of a crowd than this, my recurring nightmare being the exciting event of the night for the house of non-sleeping vampires, or at least my mother was always here. But not tonight. A crease formed between my eyebrows as I peered up at my father. "Where's Mom?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

He shook his head, with a reassuring smile. One that surely beat mine. "Her and Alice decided to go shopping for cosmetics." He explained, chuckling lightly.

"At this hour?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and glancing at my clock radio, which read a bit short of three in the morning. I wondered what store would possibly be open at this time.

My father smiled wider, rising from his position on my bed. "There's always Wal Mart, dear." He explained, before stroding forward to me and planting a kiss on my forehead. I released my elbows, allowing my head to hit the soft pillow. "Are you alright to get back to sleep?" He asked, before closing the door that he had managed to get open in a second's manner. Vampire speed. I only nodded in reply and added an overdramatic yawn before he exited my room.

All of my life Jacob has been telling me he loves me, but never once has he admitted he was _in_ love with me. I had assumed that he would have said it by now, reguarding the fact that we were happily in a commited relationship now. But Jacob hadn't yet.

For as long as I could remember, I've been dreaming that Jake admitted his undying love for me. And for as long as I can remember, it has been the same exact dream. We traveled to La Push beach, as he would often take me and we'd be gazing at the beautiful sunset. And then he would tell me and I would feel shrill happiness and the most content I had ever felt. I would awake feeling complete and loved.

But a few weeks ago, the nightmares began. The beginning of the dreams were the same. But it would be me who revealed my love. And then, Jacob would turn into a wolf and viciously attack me. I shifted my position, resting my head against my pillow, the abnormality of my recent nightmares troubling me.

It couldn't be normal. Having dreams about your own boyfriend, someone you loved, killing you.

_But nothing about you is normal. _A voice in my head argued.

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**tell me how you like it, please! x)**

**REVIEWS=LOVE.**

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	3. Bad News

**No reviews so far. -_- But I couldn't refuse the urge to update. x) I just got so many great ideas! :D**

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I awoke from a horrible restless night. Every muscle in my body ached. My head throbbed. I couldn't be asleep for anymore than ten mere minutes before I woke up, scared to death. And the remainder of the long night was tossing and turning, worries filling my over-productive mind.

The sunshine peered into my bedroom, filling my room with it's rays. _Odd,_ I thought, lying lazily in my bed. _Ever since I began to have horrible nightmares, the sun shines more and more. _It's like the weather pattern of Forks is brightening up on a count of my paranoia. I mentally kicked myself then. What am I paranoid about, anyway? Could I possibly even so much as think that Jacob would ever, could _ever _hurt me in any way. That's ridiculous. I shook my head, as if to shake thoughts that fell into the irrational category away.

Pulling my legs toward my torso, I sat up, yawning lightly and stretching my aching joints. Twisting my waist around slightly, I glanced at the clock, it reading nearly _11:30 A.M._ I sighed aloud, smiling lightly. I had gained scarce amounts of sleep, and still I couldn't manage to make it out of my bedroom until at least before eleven. Laughing, I shook my head once more and kicked my legs over the edge of my bedside. Subconcsiously, I wondered why neither my mother or father, or my various other family members, didn't bother to come check on me this morning. I had been awake for hours, staring blanky at the cieling and thinking.

As the aches inside intensifyed, I thanked God for weekends and that I didn't have to attend Forks High School today. That would nearly kill me, no pun intended, being I'm half vampire.

I made my way across my bedroom, entering my joint bathroom and peering into the mirror. The make-up I had forgotten to wash off last night smudged down to the beginning of my cheek, both eyeliner and mascara bleeding down. Could I have been crying in my sleep? But it didn't have to be tears that smudged my make-up. A mere night of sleep would do the trick. I sighed, flipping the faucet up, watching as water began to pour down the sink. Somewhat bending my knees in a swift motion, I stuck my head near the sink, taking water into my hands and washing black smudges from my skin. The cool water touching my face felt refreshing, fully awakening me for the new day.

I pulled a towel from the right drawer below my counter top, patting my face dry before throwing it onto the bathroom counter and walking back into my room. Immediately, I headed downstairs, eager to see what my family we're up to. I had to admit, it was strange that no one was jumping on my bed, shaking me and insisting I awake and join the fun. Vampires quite easily flowed into boredom. I ran down the staircase at a human speed, in no actual rush. Examining the living room, with a quick glance, I realized there was no one there nor in the living room. It wasn't until I made my way to the kitchen before I found my grandma, Esme, busing herself on her laptop computer, typing away.

She glanced up, with a smile for me. "Hello, dear." She greated, breaking away from her computer and stroding my way, her arms wide open in expectance of a hug. I edged around the counter, nearly falling into her arms, with a smile towards her. "Did you sleep well?" she asked, as I pulled away a moment later, although I assumed she already knew the answer. In reality, there really were no secrets in the Cullen household. What with the mind readers and phsycics and intensly sensitive vampire hearing. But I suppose Esme didn't wish to lie to me, because a mere moment later, she confessed. "Your father told me," she sighed, staring at me from across the counter as I took a seat at a swanky bar stool, she had no doubt found at a fancy vintage furniture store years ago. Esme always had a nack for interior design. "I worry about you, sweetheart." She admitted, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

I shook my head with a sigh, placing my hand in my fist. "Grandma," I stated, my tone sounding exasperated. "There's no reason to worry. They're just weird nightmares." I explained, flashing a fraud smile of an attempt at reassurance.

But apparently, she saw through me. Esme leaned forward, placing her elbows on the countertop. "I've studied quite a bit of phsycology over the years," she began. I suppose she would have to do something with all that time. An eternity can cause a person, or vampire, much boredom. "So basically, I know a lot of the human behavior, or a half-human's behavior." She smiled, with a short chuckle. But the smile faded, quickly morphing into a frown. "Dreams always have a meaning to them, Nesise. They're never just _weird dreams. _This could, internally, be something else." My grandmother explained, using my own previously used words.

I squinted at her, wishing Esme would come right out with what she had to say. I was told I also recieved my impatience from my mother. But before I could say a word, she had moved on once more, beginning again.

"I suppose I don't know exactly what it is I have to say, sweetie. Perhaps just to be careful, alright? And remember I'm always here if you'd like to talk. About phsycology and dreams, I mean. I don't want to pry into your relationship." She smiled, propping herself up over the counter to plant a kiss on my forehead, with a playful tousle of my hair. Esme took a deep breath, followed by a sigh of relief. "Glad that's over with. I've never been to good with tension." Esme admitted, briskly pressing a few buttons on her lap top before swiflty closing it and directing her gaze at me.

It was then that my stomach growled, filling the silent air. I laughed lightly, as Esme chuckled as well. "I take it your hungry, Renesmee?" she asked. But before she could stifle into the refridgerator to find only the strangest items, consisting of mold or other rot, her yellow-orange eyes lit up. "That reminds me!" she nearly shouted, with a bit of a smile. "Jacob called for you, Nesse. He told me to send you down to La Push, once you woke."

I smiled, with a nod and removed myself from the bar stool quickly, hopping to the wooden floor. It was always a given that I would be eager to see Jacob. After all, he was my best friend and boyfriend. But this excitement seemed almost strange. A family of butterflies had suddenly moved into my stomach, but rather than giving me that sickly feeling I recieve whenever I happen to get nervous, it was as if it were a pleasant foreshadowing. Of some type at the very least. But after a moment, I realized this was most likely my over-working mind boiling up yet another theory or irrational thought.

Esme cracked a smile, clearing taking note of my excitement to meet up with Jacob. Her topaz eyes gleamed in the florescent lighting of the house as she gazed at me. "Would you like a ride to La Push?" she asked, with a bit of a laugh.

I shook my head, with a grin. There was energy flowing through my veins now, giving me the urge to participate in physical activity of some type. "I'd rather run." I smiled, longing to feel the luscious wind flowing through my hair, smelling the passing air with a quick wiff, careful not to miss the my gorgeous surroudings of nature and beauty.

And with that, I had swiftly turned, running at vampire speed for the front door, calling an "I love you!" over my shoulder as I burst out the wooden frame, into the air of a mid day in Forks. The sun was still shining, though fighting against the clouds surrounding it, trying to bring it out of our view. I cheered on the sun, mentally, enjoying the calm aroma of sunshine. For some reason, whenever I felt the sun's rays hitting me, warming me, Jacob comes to mind. My own personal sunshine, I thought, a smile coming to my face as I tore out our large backyard and leaped into the woods.

The greens of Forks seemed to never die. Although it was the middle of winter, there was still that every now and then, beautiful spec of green, shining through the rest of the dull colored scenery, turning brown and orange, dying. I smiled at the little spec of greens, fighting to be different from it's surrounding. Attempting to not be overwhelmed, shoved down. Like the sun, I remembered, smiling. I admired the sun and the greens. But as I ran through out the forest, leading to the La Push reservation, I realized I had to be losing my mind. Being envious of the sun and plants, not really the most rational thing.

It was only a few mere minutes before I had arrived in the reservation, the air in my hair ceasing. I glanced around, realizing the place wasn't as lively as it usually was. Being the home of the Quilette werewolves, there always seemed to be somewhat exciting happenings in the front yards and streets of La Push. But usually, the most occurings resulted at the beach. _They're probably all down there, _I said mentally to myself, refusing to worry about something so mere._ Playing a dumb game of beach volleyball or something or another._ I smiled, racing down to the beach now, eager to join whatever may be going on.

But once I had climbed the steep hill that rest just beyond the La Push beach, and saw a Jacob, kicking rocks by the seashore, with a discouraged look in his eyes, I knew something must be wrong. It was only a feeling, of course. I could be wrong. I _hope_ I'm wrong. But the feeling was quite strong.

Jake sees me a moment later, flashing a small smile and motioning for me to come down to the sand. I smile as well, though I'm sure mine wasn't as convincing as his, and began to ran down the hill, the excitement to see Jacob rising in my chest once again. I race down to him, surprised that the first thing I bring myself to do is wrap my arms around him, in a tight squeeze. He chuckled, patting my hair and kissing my forehead. "Well, hello, sleeping beauty." He smiled.

I glanced at those glimmering teeth, wondering why I had ever suspected anything being remotely wrong in the first place. His teeth were gleaming and convincing. It was foolish of me to expect the worst, I realize. But then, as I rose my glance and saw the look in them, the same sense of discourage I had seen moments ago, I frowned, clinging to his chest. "Jake, baby. What's wrong, what's happened?" I asked, panic clearly rising in my voice.

Jacob backed away from me slightly and took my hand, leading me for a walk along the shore. I joined him, wholeheartily, though my mind was still set on what the hell was happening. He sighed aloud, and then, once I slightly glanced up, I witnessed a single tear running along his sunkissed cheek. This, alone, made me want to burst into tears.

It was so unbelievably difficult for me to witness the tears of a loved one of mine. Especially Jacob. Always the stronger one, so reliable. I always knew that he would take extraordinary care of me, no matter what. It both scared me to death and killed me to see his tears, to see him weak.

I smudged the tear from his cheek, a crease forming between my eyebrows as I fought back tears. "Jake, what is it?" I whispered. My usually melodious voice sounded horrified.

He backed away from me then, taking my hand instead, and began to walk across the shore of La Push beach. I gladly took his hand, entwining our fingers and stroding across the sand, by his side.

"Last night," Jacob began, taking deep breaths in. He stared at the ground, his expression appearing very torchured. I squeezed his hand, as if to remind him that I was here for him. But he showed no response to it. His breathing came out labored now. I moved closer to him, a crease forming between my eyebrows.

I squeezed his hand once more. "Jake?" I asked, needing to hear his voice suddenly, as if would be an assurance that he was truly alright.

Jacob squeezed my hand then, glancing up and flashing a smile that was clearly a fraud. His smile faded then, as if a reminder had came into his mind, that he still had to present the problem to me. Absent tears came down his face once more. I didn't waste the time to smudge or kiss them away, for I had this feeling that they were much more to come.

"Sam... he um," Jacob closed his eyes momentarily. I could tell he was fighting away tears. Without truly thinking too much of it, I began to run my free hand down his arm, which seemed like somewhat of a comforting gesture. He gazed up and stared at me with those eyes. Such an intense color of beautiful brown. It was nearly unbearable to see them in such a state. So pained, confused and utterly innocent. "He lost control." Jake sobbed out, taking a breath and nearly falling to the floor of the beach. With all of my strength, I held him up, planting a kiss on his cheek, wishing so badly he would continue and break the anticipation growing in my chest. The horrible feeling of paranoia invading my system. "He killed Emily." He rushed the words out. And afterwards, after saying them, he collapsed, ignoring my attempts at stabilizing him.

And then, I disreguarded them too, falling to the sand, with him, holding Jacob in my arms, planting kisses on his neck and hair. It took me a few minutes to actually get his statement through my mind.

Emily. Sam's beautiful and sweet wife that I had known for my whole life-my short life. _But still._ My mind argued. On nearly every occurance I had seen Sam, there was Emily. Always at his side. Always a loving wife. It was her children-Jenny and Sophia, that I had been babysitting for nearly a year. She was nice to everyone, or at least, that's all that I've witnessed. She was a friend of Jacob. A friend of my family. A friend of my parents. A friend of mine.

And now she was gone.

To my surprise, I began sobbing too. I wasn't sure if that was normal. But then, I had never experienced grief. I had never expected that I would have to or been prepared to experience something so-horrible. My family consists of all immortal and nearly indestructable beings. I had never thought once in my life of what this could be like. But now I knew. Missing the deceased. Wanting, longing and wishing you could have saved them, although I was well aware that was an irrational thought. Even if I had been there, I couldn't have done much to stop Sam...

And then I thought about Sam. How awful he must feel. Not only did he lose the love of his life, his partner, the mother of his children, but he had to live with the never-ending angst of the honest situation. He killed her.

I shook my head. I couldn't think about that, putting myself in his shoes. That was too much-to hard. So I put my mind to rest, and focused on comforting Jacob. Hugging him, holding him, kissing him.

It had seemed like hours before we pulled away. He looked at me, his large brown eyes red from the weeping. And I looked back at him, a sympathetic look in my eyes, crease between my eyebrows and raised my hand to rest on his cheek. "Do you need anything? Does _Sam _need anything?" I asked, fully prepared to do anything I could for the family.

But Jacob just shook his head, sniffling.

"What about Sophia and Jenny? I could watch them if he wanted me to?" I offered, feeling very helpless in my position. It was almost as if I helped, just by doing something as mere as entertaining a six and eight year old for a few hours, that I've taken a burden off of the grieving family.

But Jake shook his head again, clearing his throat. "They're uh, with Sue." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Look, baby. I really should get back to Sam." He explained, raising his head and flashing a look, that said to me _I'm sorry._ "Do you need a ride home?" Jacob asked, his voice sounding still oh, so fragile to me.

I sniffled, pulling out my cell phone from my jeans pocket. It was nearing 4:00. "I can call my Mom or Dad." I stated, my voice sounding distant.

Besides the fact, I simply didn't _feel_ like running home, I was sure that the previous events would result in quite a bit of thinking. And I was positive I could be reckless while heading home.

Jake sighed, pulling me tightly against his chest and planting a kiss on my head. And then, he let me go, propping himself up on the sand and standing. He glanced around, momentarily and then looked back at me. He didn't say anything. Only stared into my eyes for a few minutes.

But then he broke it, glancing at his house, which was visible just over the hill of the La Push beach. "I need to get back." He said again, giving me a mere glance.

I nodded, leaning forward and pecking his lips lightly. I wrapped my arms around for a moment, although he didn't respond to it. I figured his mind was in a very differed place at the moment. "If you need anything, call me. I mean that." I whispered, staring deeply into his pools of dark brown. "Anything at all." I turned around, mumbling an "I'll call you later."

I walked to the border line of La Push, then pulled my cell phone out and pressed number _5_ on my speed dial. The tone sounded twice, before I heard my father's clear voice. "Renesmee?" he asked, his voice reflecting a bit concerned.

"Dad," I breathed, my voice sounding labored. "Can you, umm..?" I felt a few tears streaming down my cheeks. Sobs attempted to break the barrier of my throat, that held them down. "Will you pick me up?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"I'm on my way, sweetie." And then the line went dead.

I awaited, surrounded by trees, all alone. My mind reflected the last few hours, what's happened. And then I crumpled to the ground, sobs escaping from my body. And I remained, my legs crumpled together, touching my torso, in a ball, until a pair of slightly cool arms pryed me out of the position and scooped me into his arms.

It was my father, my mom at his side. I stared blankly at them, my face crumpled, tears continuing to come. I raised my hand to my dad's cheek, showing him what I had been told, allowing a few sobs to come from my mouth.

"I know." He aknowlegded, kissing my forehead. "Well, at least I knew someone had died. Alice had a vision." He explained, taking a deep, unnecessary breath. "Let's get you home," He sighed out, before lying my down in the backseat of his Volvo and speeding to the Cullen residence.


	4. The Process Of Grief

**///woooh!  
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, it's personally my favorite holiday.;;**

**Hope everyone had a great one, x) **

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The next thing I knew, I was on the living room couch. But I had no remembrance of how I ended up there. I supposed that I had fallen asleep in the car, and my mother or father had moved me to the couch, in fear that they should keep an eye on me. I propped myself up on my elbow, scratching my head lightly and glancing around. It was night now, for the large window displayed a full moon and a dark sky. The stars shown bright into the living room.

"Mom?" I called, throwing the blanket off of my legs and running into the kitchen at a vampiric speed. "Dad?" I asked, with no luck of finding any family members in either the kitchen or living room. Perhaps they were all in their bedrooms for the night... I pondered, but then again, what would be the point of keeping me in the living room, if they didn't intend to keep an eye on me?

I thought back to before I had fallen asleep, which was somewhat difficult considering I have no memory of drifting to sleep in the first place. I sighed, taking a seat in the barstool. Letting my arms sprawl lazily across the countertop, I rested my chin on my fist. A tear ran down my face, suddenly. The last thing I remembered was Jacob telling me that Sam had lost control of his werewolf abilities and accidently killed his wife, Emily. But then I thought how strange that was. Today, when I had found out, I was much to overwhelmed with grief that I didn't think through it. Sam had been a werewolf for quite a while. In fact, he had been an experienced one for a year or two when I was born.

There's no telling how he could randomly lose control like that.

"They went hunting," came an angelic voice from behind me. It wasn't until my Aunt Rosalie had broken me away from my thoughts that I had noticed the few tears running down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away, as she rounded the counter and sat next to me. "They should be back soon, you know."

"Are you my babysitter?" I asked, with a bit of a fake smile.

Rosalie smiled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I went hunting previously this week. I'm not thirsty." she joked, with a bit of a smirk.

I laughed half-heartily. It wasn't that I didn't find her pun amusing. Just that I wasn't much in the chuckling mood, obviously. But, earning the need to not show my emotions, from my mother, I hid my sadness, flashing a smile.

Apparently, Rose wasn't too convinced. She squeezed my shoulder. "How you holding up, kiddo?" she asked, with a sympathetic expression. "I know it's hard." she whispered, leaning forward to plant a kiss on atop of my head.

I sighed, shutting my eyes, and squinting tightly. I felt a few wet tears fall from my brown eyes, and speed down my cheeks. "It is hard." I mumbled, feeling sobs rise in my throat. "It isn't fair." I commented, quietly, my face scrunching up as I allowed a couple of sobs to release.

And then, I was in Rosalie's lap. She had quickly pulled me onto her at the first sign of weeping. I'd always found a guardian angel in my aunt. Since day one, I was told she was nearly as protective of me as my parents were. I leaned my head against her collar bone, sobbing. She placed her hand in my hair and I thought I could hear her sob too, though she was quiet about the matter. My aunt didn't like to show weakness. "It'll be alright, sweetheart. I promise it will."

But I didn't say anything in return, didn't make any acknowledgement of her comfort. But I did take something from it. As I sobbed into Rosalie's chest, I nearly disected the statement. Perhaps it would all be okay, eventually, anyway. I had to think positive thoughts in times like these, didn't I? Wasn't that a main key to surviving grief? Positive thoughts and continuing to live?

After a few more minutes of nearly drowning aunt Rose's blouse in my tears, I pulled away, taking measured, deep breaths. "I-I'm sorry." I murmured, studying her shirt that had made the transition from a lovely light pink to a dark shade of magenta.

"Oh, that's alright." Rosalie muttered, with a sad smile. "Rules were meant to be broken, shirts were meant to be ruined." she joked, cocking her head to the side, with a sigh. "I really am sorry, baby girl." she said, averting her gaze to the ground.

I bit my lip and lept from her lap, drying a few of my tears in the swift process. "Thank you." I said, leaning against the countertop. I yawned a dramatic yawn then, eager to be alone. "I'm very tired. I'm going to go up to my room." I explained, already heading for the staircase.

But Rosalie cut me off, stepping in front of me, and pulling me into a tight squeeze. "I love you, angel." she whispered into my ear, kissing my hair.

I nodded, squeezing her back and murmuring an "I love you, too." before pulling away and racing up the staircase, rushing through the stretched hallway and dashing into my room, before slamming the door.

I didn't plan to leave my room for quite a while. The place was like haven to me. Blanket over my head, surrounded by pillows, my iPod melody blaring into my ears. It was the best comfort I could be offered, next to Jacob's arms. But he needed the reassurance to. How I wish I could give him what he needed right now-love. Arms to hug him, and lips to kiss him. But I also knew what he needed-or believed he needed anyway- was to be alone. That and comfort Sam, for he needed it the most out of any of us.

And then I began to cry. For Sam more for than myself. For Jacob more than for myself. And for the whole pack and Quilette community. I rolled over, grasping at my various pillows, seeking their softness, that was oddly always good for relaxation. Sobs choked out from my body, my frame shaking. I breathed heavily, thinking how unfair it truly was. Death, alone, was a horrible, unjust thing, that for some ironic reason they stated was simply apart of life. But Emily's, hers was much more complex than that. Killed by her husband, the person who loved her more than anyone else in the world.

Now that was unjustice.

I fell asleep to a song written by my father to my mother, when she was still human. He had named it 'Bella's Lullaby.' As a child, and even today, I found it so soothing. This, and crying, put me to sleep after such a horrid day.

My last thought before I drifted into rest, was that I hoped Jacob would be okay.

* * *

My dream changed, though only slightly. Everything was replayed, as normally, but once I had admitted to Jake my love for him that attacked me. The whole pack emerged from what seemed no place and took turns in tearing me to pieces. Once I was finished-nothing but a bloody pulp of unrecognizable body parts, laying on the beached floor, Jacob's wolf form, howled into the sky. It was strange. He seemed sad, remorseful, full of regret.

I tried not to think about my dreams as I layed in bed the next morning. I had realized falling asleep once more would not be the best idea, so I just lay there, wide-eyed, staring at the cieling fan performing the same circle for hours at a time. It was just me, alone, with my thoughts. This most likely was not the best idea either.

There was a rapping on my bedroom door around ten. "Come in." I muttered, quietly, with a short sigh. My mother and father entered the room. I let out another sigh.

"We assumed you didn't want to go to school today." My mom said, taking a seat on the foot of my bed. My father remained standing.

"You assumed right." I mumbled, shifting my position so that I didn't have to look at them. I wasn't exactly in the mood for visitors.

The grieving process was a complicated one. The first step was depression. This consists of laying in bed for the pattern of the day, listening to sad college music, crying a lot, and a ton of ice cream. Why couldn't they allow me to heal functionally?

I felt my mother's gentle hand on the calf of my leg. "Renesmee," she murmured, her voice melodic. "If you insist on staying home today, I think it may be best for you to spend some time with your family." she offered.

But I simply groaned, hoping she would take that as a sure no. "Or at least eat something." My father put in, his tone gentle. But I just shook my head, sighing.

I heard them whispering a few things to each other, determining just what to do with me.

I clenched my teeth together. "Look," I spat out, refusing to look at them. "If you want what's best for me, then you'll leave me alone and let me deal." I nearly shouted, my voice dripping with angst.

My motive was not to make them feel as if they weren't good parents. Or that I hated them in any manor. It was merely to get some peace and quiet. I didn't think of that as too much to ask.

And I recieved what I had wanted. My mom and dad each provided me with a solemn gaze, a quick murmur of "I love you's" and left my bedroom in a flash. And then it was quiet, but by no means peaceful. Well, perhaps the room was, calm and soundless. But my head was pouding, thoughts echoing off of each wall that was the room of my mind. It was difficult to think one mere thought.

I curled up into my blanket, wishing the comforting softness could swallow me. Take me into a world of nothing but rest and away from a world of grief. I sighed, setting up. Wouldn't I be better off not to think about it? But that can't be healthy, I thought, letting out another sigh. You had to conquer your pain, face it, in order for it to be truly gone. You couldn't ignore something so life changing. That wasn't functional.

But again, nothing about me was normal, or functional.

I threw my legs over my bed, hopping to the ground. I would check up on Jacob. It would get me away from my own depression but I would fly right into his, which I was alright with, for the time being. And who knows? Perhaps he needs me.

Maybe, just maybe, he's sitting in his bed after a restess night, or perhaps setting on Sam's uncomfortable couch, for he had felt it right to stay with him. But either way, I knew Jake wouldn't have been able to sleep. But perhaps at this moment, the minute I'm planning to call him, in fact racing for my phone at this second, Jacob is thinking about me. He could be thinking "I wonder what Nessie is doing. I wonder how my baby is holding up." Or "I need Renesmee right now. I can't go on without talking to her. I know she'll make me feel better."

Or perhaps I was flattering myself and was the farthest thing from his mind.

But I dialed his number, reguardless, because, even if he didn't give a rat's ass about me at the moment, I needed to know how he was. The dial tone of his cell phone rung several times before I heard a click to signify that he had answered. "Hello?" came a somewhat groggy voice.

And although he sounded like hell, was clearly not in a healthy state, his voice sounded like one of an angel's. Only because it belonged to Jacob.

"Jacob, baby?" I asked. And it took me a moment to realize my voice was shaking. And when I glanced around slightly, down at my hands, I realized I was trembling.

"Nessie?" he asked, his voice was tiresome, though restless.

"Yes, it's me. I was... I wanted to know how you were holding up." My tone shook once more. I sounded terrified.

There was a long pause. I couldn't hear anything but subtle movement. The absence of his voice sent a thrill through my stomach, worrying me.B But he was back after a few long moments.

"I'm at Sam's." he replied, finally, as if I hadn't asked for some awareness that he was okay. "You could come over, if you'd like. I'm sure he'd like to see you."

I waited to say something. I think apart of me was hoping that he would say "And I'd like to see you, too." But he didn't. And nearly a minute passed.

I didn't debate it too much, for I knew I had to see Jake. And seeing Sam and everyone else would be nice, too, if only to give my apologies and condulances.

"Yeah, okay." I whispered. The shaking continued in my voice and I could have blushed. I sounded ridiculous.

And the line went dead.

I sighed, hanging up my end of the conversation, as well. I guess I expected at least a comment of resolution, a goodbye, or something or another. But no matter. Jake was in the grieving process. I shouldn't expect anything from him at this time. I have to face that fact that for once in my life, I'm not going to recieve every ounce of his full attention.

I mentally kicked myself for acting so selfishly.

So I just groaned an agitated groan, and tossed my cell phone into the pocket of my over-sized blue hoodie I was wearing. I glanced in the mirror with a sigh. I appeared exhausted. Quickly, I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and scrambled to put on a pair of worn out jeans.

And then I raced down the stairs and out the door, without saying goodbye to any of the members of my family.

--

hope you liked this chappy.

REVIEW, pretty please. x)


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